Student in Sunnydale 2
by Enterprise1701-d
Summary: The story continues. What if three very old vampires came to Sunnydale, and Buffy couldn't handle them?


Student in Sunnydale 2.

  
An old van pulled up to the driveway of a large mansion in Beverly Hills. It stopped at the gates separating the driveway from the rest of the street.

Oz reached out of the driver's window, and pressed the bell.

"Morgan residence, how can I help you?" a masculine voice asked.

"Uhm… yeah, we're here to see Llewellyn," Oz said. "He said we could drop by when we needed his help."

"Who may I say is calling?" the voice asked.

"Tell him it's Buffy and her friends," Oz answered.

"The Slayer? I'll open the gates. Sorry for the inconvenience," the voice said, and the gates started sliding open.

"No problem," Oz said, releasing the button, and getting back in his van. He turned to the others riding with him, and muttered, "Looks like everyone knows who Buffy is."

"It looks that way," Giles said. "The council of Watchers is not going to be happy if I tell them this."

When they stopped, in front of the large mansion, they were awaited… by Crevan.

"So, what's the big emergency?" he asked as the group got out of the van.

"What a house," Buffy muttered, before answering the question. "There are a couple of really strong vampires in Sunnydale. We fought them for most of last night, but there's something strange about them."

"Define strange," Crevan asked as he guided the group inside the house. After leading them through a couple of room, he led them to the back yard. Samantha was exercising against a wooden machine. She was kicking at it, and hitting it.

"How far are you, Squirt?" Crevan asked.

"152," Samantha responded. "Only 48…47 more."

"I'd hurry up," Crevan told the girl as he led the astonished group to a small house some distance away. "Lew wants that finished within the next five minutes."

"I know," Sam responded, increasing the rhythm of her attacks. In between grunts, she managed, "Good to see you all again." After her statement, her focus returned to the wooden exercise machine, her rhythm increasing further.

"Here he is," Crevan told the group. "His old sword was damaged during the rescue of Sam, so he's making himself a new one." Crevan led the group in the hut, where they could see Llewellyn hitting a piece of steel with a mallet, while an oriental man was holding it in a pair of metal pincers. He rotated the metal as Llewellyn hit it with the mallet in a steady rhythm.

His rhythm didn't falter as he told the group, "Good to see you again. Would you mind waiting for a moment or two, while I finish this? I don't want this blade to be ruined after putting a week's work into it."

"Sure," Buffy said, while she and group fled back to the cool outside air. It was flaming hot inside the forge. By the time they returned to Samantha, the girl was holding on to a sword.

"Isn't that Llewellyn's?" Buffy asked.

"Like he said, it was damaged, so Sam is now using it as a training blade," Crevan explained as the girl moved through her katas with a practice ease. Suddenly, she stopped, and sheathed the sword.

"Uncle Crevan, can I borrow you for a moment? I could use a sparring partner," Sam asked as she turned to the group.

"Sure. Excuse me for a moment," Crevan said as he materialized a ninja-sword from under his clothes and walked up to the waiting girl.

"How can she be strong enough to handle such a sword?" Xander asked. "Look at her, that thing is almost as large as she is!"

"Training, Mr. Harris. It's obvious that Samantha has been using a sword for years. I can't say I'm happy with that fact," Giles answered Xander's question.

"It doesn't seem to be that much too large for her," Buffy said, a comment the others agreed on. the sword was large compared to the girl, but not overly so.

Samantha drew the sword, and raised it in a salute. She got in a pose. Crevan dipped his head, and got in a different one. The two circled each other for a few moments, during which they stared intently at one another. Crevan attacked. Samantha ducked, using her smaller body to her advantage, and drove the large blade upwards. Crevan drew back, avoiding the blade, while bringing down his own sword at the same time.

Samantha gave a startled yelp as she reflexively brought up the large blade to block. Crevan changed his sword's direction, bringing it in a horizontal slashing movement instead of a vertical one. Samantha jumped up, made a somersault, and went after Crevan with her sword. The two sparred for a few minutes longer before breaking off.

Samantha was panting heavily. "That's better than katas," she panted.

Crevan hadn't broken a sweat. "For you maybe," he said with a smile.

"You should be using a 5-kilogram blade!" Samantha brought out. "To make things even for the fact that you have a thousand years experience on me, as well as height, weight, and strength."

Crevan laughed. "Go back to your katas, Squirt. I'll put in a good word for you with Lew. Who knows, you might get to fight him…" he let the comment trail. Samantha grunted.

"Thanks, Uncle Crevan. Thank you," she said, her voice definitely sarcastic.

A couple of minutes later, Llewellyn appeared from the forge, toweling some sweat off his forehead. "So, what can I do for you?" he asked as he joined in the group, watching Samantha work out.

"Yesterday, three strange vampires arrived in Sunnydale. While we fought them for most of last night, there was no stopping them. for some reason, not even Buffy was able to stand up to them for very long," Giles told Llewellyn, who nodded.

"They must be old, then. Either that, or there's a wizard involved," Llewellyn said pensively. "Come, let's go inside. I'm sure it will be more comfortable to talk in the living room. Join us when you're done, Sam."

"Right," Samantha answered, not breaking her steady rhythm as she continued her katas. Llewellyn led the group inside, and soon they were all seated in a very luxurious salon. Llewellyn, black from the soot of the forge, sat down without scruples.

"Now, tell me everything you can about these vampires," Llewellyn urged them.

"They're faster, can hit harder, and have more stamina than I do," Buffy told him. "I hit this one guy, and it didn't even phase him! And when I drew Mr. Pointy, they just laughed at me!"

"Mr. Pointy?" Llewellyn asked.

Sheepishly, Buffy opened her purse, and retrieved a pointy stake from it. "Never leave home without it," she added.

"You hit one vampire full force, and it didn't phase him," Llewellyn grunted. "How hard can you hit?" he asked the Slayer.

"Hard. Very hard," Giles supplied.

"Right. Hit me," Llewellyn said, standing up, and walking over to Buffy. "Right here, full force."

"What?" Buffy squeaked.

"Are you sure, Mr. Morgan? I can assure you, Buffy's hits…"

"I'm sure. Get up, and hit me."

"Fine," Buffy said, and got up. She drew back her arm, and slammed forward, right in Llewellyn's face. The man, standing 1.90 meters tall, was thrown backwards, until his back connected to the wall. To everyone's surprise, he didn't slide down it, but remained standing. His jaw had a fracture, one that was easily repaired by Llewellyn's immortality, as well as ignored by his mind. 

"Must be old ones. No wizard can imbue a vampire with the strength to shrug that off. Tell me Buffy, did those vampires fly?" Llewellyn asked.

Giles choked on his tea, while Xander, Oz and Willow stared at him as if he were nuts. Buffy went ashen-white.

"Y…Yes," she admitted.

"Masters. Over 1,200 years old… that's the common age for a vampire to acquire flight. And it'll take me at least two more days to get my new blade ready!"

"What was wrong with the old one?" Buffy asked. "We saw Sam use it, and there didn't seem anything wrong with it."

As if on queue, Sam entered the lounge. One look at her adoptive father's face told her more than she wanted to know.

"How bad is it?" she asked.

"The usual 1,200 year-old vampire master," Xander quipped. "Only that there are now three of them."

"Sam, show them your blade for a minute," Llewellyn asked the girl. She nodded, and drew the sword. Llewellyn took it from her, and showed the present people a small nick about one quarter the length of the blade up from the handle. "As you can see, destroying that Damascus blade has ruined the blade. It's useful as training sword, but nothing more."

"That also leaves us with the problem that you don't have a sword to use against those masters," Crevan said.

Llewellyn shook his head. "We'll discuss all of this later. I'm sure you're all tired from last night." Buffy and her companions all nodded, as if realizing they were tired for the first time since their arrival. "Xavier!" Llewellyn shouted.

"Yes, sir?" A man dressed in a suit entered the room. It was the man who had answered when Oz had rung the bell.

"Get these people some rooms, and supply them with everything they ask for." Llewellyn turned to his guests. "Don't worry, Xavier will take care of everything. If you need anything, clothes, food, drink, bath, anything, just ask him. If you have any questions, he'll answer them for you."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Morgan," Giles said. Llewellyn waved their thanks away, and soon the group left with Xavier up front.

"I need a shower myself," Llewellyn grunted, noticing the soot. "How about setting up a few game plans?" he asked Crevan.

"Sure," the other man replied. "But before you go, tell me one thing. How bad is it? I mean, how bad is it really?"

"Imagine a vampire with more years of experience than you have lived, who eats Slayers for breakfast, and who can fly. Now triple it. Add the fact that it's very likely that they know what we are."

"Fuck," Crevan muttered.

"I only faced one… a couple hundred years ago. Took almost two days to kill it."

"Damn," Crevan said. Llewellyn nodded. "Now, I'll go take my shower. You should take one too, Sam."

"Right, Dad."

By four thirty that afternoon, the entire group had gathered in the living room once again. Topic at hand was, of course, the vampire masters in Sunnydale.

"There's a big chance they know who I am," Llewellyn opened the conversation. "I've been a pain in their butt for long enough, so there's a very high chance they'll come after me. Basically, that's it. We exploit their weaknesses. I'll take a walk, they'll come to me, and I'll kill them, with you for backup."

"I can't believe they'll fall for that," Giles said.

"They won't, Giles. But they're expecting me, Crevan, and maybe Buffy. They won't be expecting me getting help."

"Help? What kind of help?" Buffy asked.

Llewellyn looked at her, as if deciding whether or not to tell. "I'm a druid, Buffy. It's doubtful that these vampires know what a druid a capable of."

"And what is so special about druids, Mr. Morgan?" Giles asked. 

"A druid never walks alone. He is tied in to his surroundings, the forces of nature, so to speak."

"What does that mean, Mr. Morgan?"

"Do you know the legend of the werewolves, Giles? The first werewolves were druids. Druids inhabited by the spirit of the wolf become stronger, faster, and more agile. Their senses grow more acute. Unfortunately, the power corrupted some…they fled, never to release the spirits that helped them. The spirit was passed down through the bite, or through the bloodline. Because of the danger, the druids agreed among themselves never to call on such power ever again, unless it was an emergency. Now the time has come for me to do so."

"I don't understand, Mr. Morgan. If the druids can call upon such power, why didn't they defend themselves when the Celts were under attack by the Romans? Why allow themselves to be killed?"

"Because of Fear, Giles. More than anybody, a druid knows and understands the circle of life and death. They knew their spirit would live on. So, rather than risk possession, the druids let themselves be slaughtered by hordes of barbarians from the south."

"I wouldn't call the Romans barbarians, Mr. Morgan. Their culture…"

"_Culture_? They hunted down the druids. And the ones after the Romans, those bloody Christians, hunted them even worse! Worse, they had all our medicine women killed too! Witches… hah! Those women had but a fraction of the druids' power. They healed people, and protected them. If I had known then…"

"Lew…" Crevan said, warningly.

Llewellyn closed his eyes, and took a couple of deep breaths. He nodded. "Right. You couldn't know. Anyway, it's about time we started gearing up. This way."

Llewellyn started to walk out of the room. Crevan bent to the others, and whispered, "Don't get him started. To him, the Romans and the early Christians destroyed his entire civilization. He's the last survivor of his culture. Imagine living for eternity, knowing you will never speak your mother tongue again, and never see the culture that you grew up in."

"What about you, Mr. Aegelmaere? What about your culture?"

"It still exists. We're living in it. This is what I grew up in, it just evolved. Lew's got slaughtered. Now, let's follow him." Crevan got up, and followed Llewellyn and Samantha. The group dashed a little to catch up to the two, and they finally did, halting in front of a bookcase in the library.

"I know, it's been done before," Llewellyn muttered, pulling a book from the shelf. The bookcase unlatched audibly, and Llewellyn pulled it open, using the space where the book used to be as leverage point. The case rotated open like a door, uncovering a metal door behind it. Llewellyn took a key form the chain around his neck, and entered it in the door. It unlatched too, and Llewellyn pushed it open.

"A key? Just one key? Isn't that a little… low tech?" Xander asked.

"Special electronics. Enter anything but this key in that lock, and the whole house will blow up like a firecracker at Chinese New Year."

"Awch," Xander winced. When the group had entered the dark room behind the door, Llewellyn closed it. The lights activated the moment the door closed. Everyone stared at the room, which was lined with display cabinets, containing weapons. Swords, maces, axes, even a couple of bows. At the far end was a full suit of medieval armor, complete with shield.

While everyone but Llewellyn, Crevan, and Samantha gaped at the collection, Llewellyn walked to a specific cabinet.

"One hundred and twenty years has it been since you saw daylight, my old friend," Llewellyn said as he gently unlocked one of the display cabinets. He closed his eyes, and started praying.

"What is he doing?" Xander asked when he noticed Llewellyn standing in front of the open cabinet.

"He gave up that sword along with killing immortals," Crevan whispered. "He's asking forgiveness, and asks for the sword to serve him once again."

The group eyed Llewellyn suspiciously as he took the sheathed sword form the cabinet. "Over four hundred years has it been since you first saw daylight. One hundred and twenty it has been since you last saw it. Forgive me," Llewellyn said in English as he drew the blade from the scabbard. Everyone immediately saw that this blade was totally different from the one Llewellyn had given to Sam. It was still a katana, but it was painted with intricate patterns, and a dragon was etched on the front of the blade.

Llewellyn flipped it over. The group gaped as they saw a tiger depicted on the other side of the blade. When Llewellyn dropped his jacket to do some exercises with the sword, the group realized something. The etchings on the blade resembled the tattoos on Llewellyn's forearms.

"What are those tattoos? Do they mean something?" Buffy asked, venturing closer to the man who was still clutching at the sword.

"The sign of the Shaolin priest," Llewellyn said. "Strength and honor. This blade was made by me, over four hundred years ago. You see, the Shaolin are Chinese. This blade is Japanese, and as such, it's unique. It combines two elements that have never been brought together."

"I take it you're a Shaolin priest, Mr. Morgan?" Giles asked.

"A Shambalah Master, Giles. I'm a Shambalah Master," Llewellyn said as he knelt down a retrieved a long wooden box from the cabinet. It was locked tight with a heavy chain wrapped around it. Crevan stared at his friend, but no one seemed to notice.

"Of course. You're a Shambalah Master. Who wouldn't know that?" Xander said. Then, whispering to Giles, he asked, "and what exactly is a Shambalah Master?"

Llewellyn answered, "I have mastered the ways." After looking at the box, seemingly at indecision for a few seconds, Llewellyn turned to a door under the awed expressions of the teenagers accompanying him. Using a second key to unlock the door, Llewellyn showed them inside.

"Get yourselves some equipment," Llewellyn told the others, ignoring the stares. Even Crevan stared at the weaponry. Crossbows, bow, long arrows, short arrows, explosive-tipped arrows, stakes of every imaginable size and thickness, made from both silver and plain wood,… it was all there. Buffy felt in heaven as she took a quiver with wooden-tipped crossbow bolts as well as a crossbow. It was built to be held in one hand, but Buffy's trained vision noted the extra-thick metal laths. This crossbow held at least 150 kilos worth of pressure; she could feel every kilo, as she had to use every bit of her Slayer strength to ready the bow.

"Wow, heavy," she groaned.

"Reinforced long-distance one-hand crossbow. Drops a vampire one hundred meters away. Visor enables it to score a perfect bulls-eye at the same distance," Llewellyn explained as he strapped a belt around his waist. On his right were five medium-length wooden stakes. On his left were five silvers ones of the same proportions. Llewellyn then opened a case, and retrieved two holsters, which he clipped to the belt directly behind the stakes. Two vicious-looking guns were inserted directly after.

"You DO know that bullets don't harm vampires, do you?" Buffy asked dubiously.

Llewellyn gave a sly grin. "Bullets hurt them, but can't kill them. These are silver bullets, blessed with a 'destroy undead' spell. They won't kill master vampires, but they will hurt them. Just a little surprise." Adding to his statement, Llewellyn hid two wooden knives in his boots. He threw on a long trench coat to cover all his weaponry, and buttoned it up.

"Nice," Buffy commented.

"Everyone have something?" Llewellyn asked.

"Yep," Crevan and Samantha commented at the same time.

"You'll guard the car," Llewellyn told the girl. Samantha nodded, and there was no disappointment ion her face. She understood she was not yet ready.

"The rest of you?" Llewellyn asked, looking at the others. They all nodded, sporting either a couple of stakes, a bow, a sword, or something similar. The swords in this room weren't crafted by grade-A sword smiths, but Llewellyn knew they would hold out for one evening.

As the team stormed through the house, Crevan asked Llewellyn what their transportation would be. Smiling secretly, Llewellyn led the entire group to the garage while carrying the mysterious wooden box with him.

"Meet our transportation," Llewellyn introduced. A silver-gray sleek van greeted them by flashing its flights as Llewellyn pressed the remote that mysteriously appeared in his hand. As he got in, Llewellyn could hear the others get in and make themselves comfortable.

"There are just too many of us to fit in a normal car," Llewellyn excused as he keyed the engine. It growled strongly, giving the impression to the newcomers that there was more to this van than met the eye. They were right as they felt the punch the van packed as it flew off the driveway, the garage door closing automatically behind them.

"What van is this?" Oz asked as he leaned over Llewellyn's seat.

"Special-built, 550 horsepower twin turbo V12 engine. Will do 100 kilometers an hour in 6 seconds flat. It has a titanium-Kevlar shell, making it bulletproof. The windows are bulletproof as well. everything on this thing is specially designed for this kind of job."

Oz just gaped at the readouts on the digital dashboard, then sat back down in his seat as Llewellyn floored it. Llewellyn's passengers just shook their collective heads as a wailing siren started coming from the car, accompanied by the blue-red lights that were flashing on top.

"Here we are," Llewellyn said as he switched off the engine in front of a cemetery. "Sam, you stay here, and warn us if something happens, ok?" He looked at the others. "Maybe you should stay here too… Crevan's immortal, just like me, and Buffy's the Slayer, so she should come too… but there's no need for the rest of you to be in needless danger."

As loud protests sprang up, Llewellyn held up his hands. It was beginning to get dark, and he didn't want to fight now. "Fine. But you stay at the rear, got it? No heroics."

The others agreed quickly as Buffy's glare settled them down. Just as they had started walking, everyone stopped again. Three vampires literally fell from the sky.

Llewellyn's arms went up sideways, and indicated to the others they should get back into the van. Knowing this wasn't the time to protest, everyone ushered back inside, with only Buffy and Crevan remaining on the outside.

"Dominus Necarum," the middle of the three masters said, while giving a small bow with his head. "We have been expecting you."

"Domi-what?" Xander asked Giles. Everyone was prepped in the cockpit of the van, allowing them to see. Samantha had switched on the external microphones, allowing them all to listen in as well.

"Dominus Necarum," Giles repeated. "It's Latin, and basically, it means Slayer's Master."

"They're calling this guy a slayer's Master? As in leather and whips master?"

"No Xander. Not _a, _but _The_. Like Buffy is _the_ Slayer, they're calling him _The_ Slayer's Master. And Master is used as in schoolmaster. It appears that the vampires know of Llewellyn, and the fact that he trains Slayers, and have given him a title accordingly."

"Ah," Xander said in awe.

Outside, Llewellyn hadn't even deigned to open his trench coat. "You three fucks are stupid, as well as dead," Llewellyn answered.

"You are the one who is dead," the middle vampire spoke again. Suddenly, twelve vampires rushed Llewellyn with a speed that astonished Buffy. What astonished her even more was the fact that Llewellyn seemed to open his coat even faster, and the sword seemingly teleported into his hand.

Ducking, Llewellyn drove his sword through a first vampire's heart, killing it for the time being. A stake appeared in his left hand, stabbing two more vampires, turning them to dust. The first vampire was decapitated before he even rose from his wound. Fighting with sword and stake, Llewellyn took out the vampires in under two minutes.

The Slayer and her gang stared at Llewellyn, who calmly put the stake away. The sword remained in his right hand. Staring at Llewellyn unbelievingly, the Slayer thought back of the fact that the man's face had remained impassive while dusting the twelve vampires.

"Well done!" the middle master spoke again. "Well done, indeed! You are every bit as good as we had been told!"

"I didn't come here for a test," Llewellyn said, his breath not sounding the least bit faster than normal.

"Fine," the middle vampire said, chuckling. The three vampires took to the air, circling over Llewellyn as vultures waiting for their prey to die.

"No fair fight?" Llewellyn asked, not sounding terribly disappointed. "And I thought that ancients like you would at least follow the ancient rules."

"There are no rules when it comes to fighting!" the vampire yelled.

Shrugging, Llewellyn said, "Fine." He sheathed his sword, drew the two guns, and opened fire on the two vampires who hadn't said a word so far. Llewellyn was right, ancient vampires such as these were bulletproof, but the enchanted silver bullets did penetrate, causing great pain in the process. The two vampires fell from the sky. Dropping the now empty guns, Llewellyn jumped, drew his sword in the process, and decapitated the first vampire before he hit the ground. Landing in a crouch, Llewellyn dusted the second vampire, thinking about the fact that technology sure was a big help with getting stubborn master vampires out of the air.

Llewellyn jumped up, made a triple summersault, and sheathed his sword in the process. He landed on the exact spot he had started, calmly picked up his two guns, and holstered them. The only remaining vampire stared at Llewellyn, and it finally dawned on him that the man known as _Dominus Necarum_ might actually be more than he could handle. The master touched down, and drew a sword from somewhere.

"Fine. Let's fight. The old way," the vampire said.

Llewellyn gave a smile, and sent shivers down the vampire's spine. Even after 1300 years, which had made him the elder of this group, he had never felt fear as he did now. He knew he couldn't run… those bullets were faster than he was. And trying to avoid someone who could shoot two vampires out of the sky at the same time would be just as meaningless as sunbathing.

Llewellyn removed the coat, and threw it aside. The vampire never raised an eyebrow at the weaponry he saw displayed. The master knew that that Llewellyn would be packed with weapons. Unhooking the belt, Llewellyn let it drop on top of the coat. He drew the two knives, and they added to the pile.

The vampire dipped his head, and threw a couple of knives next to him as well. Llewellyn removed his sweater and his shirt. Even though it was getting a little cold outside, Llewellyn faced the vampire, dressed only in his undershirt.

"Let's go to the cemetery," the vampire suggested. "Less conspicuous than the open road. We wouldn't want anyone to disturb our little brawl, would we?"

"Of course not,"' Llewellyn acceded. "Not that it will last long enough for anyone to notice."

"You break me up, Ma-au," the vampire grunted.

"What was that?" Buffy asked Crevan.

"Pa Ma-au," Crevan whispered. "Ancient Egyptian, which means The Lion. It's Lew's ancient name. They're really getting back to the old ways…" Crevan reached inside the van and pulled out the chest.

"What's in there?" Buffy asked Crevan as he carried it along to the new battlegrounds.

"Something I hoped would never see daylight again. I just hope Lew knows what he's doing with bringing this."

The entire group was on edge as the two warriors faced each other on a patch of grassland at the cemetery.

"Didn't he say it took him almost two days to kill the last master he faced?" Willow asked Crevan.

"Looks like he got a lot better, and technology's helping him a hand. I doubt anything but those guns would have gotten masters out of the sky when they chose to fly," the Immortal answered. Knowing better than to interfere, Crevan remained standing at the sidelines. He did have a couple of shuriken, throwing stars, ready in case Lew ran into trouble.

"Fine," the vampire said, and charged. Llewellyn charged as well. A flurry of punches, blocks, and strikes followed. The speed of the two combatants was truly astonishing, and Buffy knew one thing: she wanted to do that too. Suddenly, Llewellyn found himself on his back, with a raging master flying at him. Rolling aside, Llewellyn managed to escape the beast.

Llewellyn rolled up into a crouch, and charged once more. Again, the blurry movements of battle raged between the two ancient creatures. When Llewellyn shouted a war cry, it sent shivers down everyone's spines, Crevan's included. 

Llewellyn broke off the fight, and stared at the master in rage as he held his left arm over his wounded belly while it healed. His eyes locked with the vampire's, giving the undead creature a stare it would never forget. The fighting continued, with Llewellyn now slashing the vampire across the belly. Raging, the vampire charged, and managed to overwhelm Llewellyn's defenses momentarily. Llewellyn could feel the slashes and cuts starting to form on his chest, belly, and his arms. Llewellyn's immortal physiology was used to healing fast, and this situation was no different. Managing to break off, Llewellyn gave himself some time to heal up. 

The warrior straightened out, ignoring the lingering wounds, and stepped toward Crevan, who had put the wooden crate down in front of him. Llewellyn brought the sword up, and broke the chains holding the lid on the rectangular container.

Kicking it open, Llewellyn withdrew a sword. Wider than its Japanese counterpart, the Mongolian blade was also curved more. It had about the same range as the katana, yet was wider and longer in length if the blade had been straight instead of curved.

Crevan stared at Llewellyn, and asked, "Are you sure…?" The look in his teacher's eyes answered his question. As he stepped back to his opponent, Llewellyn thought back, to a long, long time ago, to the end of the 12th century, and the beginning of the 13th. A time in which he had suffered from taking the head of an especially vicious Immortal, and it had left Llewellyn's own mind twisted. During this time Llewellyn only called 'the dark ages', he had aided Genghis Khan overtake the Ming Dynasty in China. In fact, Llewellyn had been the one to train Temujin, Genghis Khan's real name, in everything he knew.

_I am the punishment from God. If you had committed no sins, then God would not have sent a punishment like me onto you._ Llewellyn smirked as he remembered his 'charge's' favorite saying while conquering people. It certainly seemed to fit this occasion. The vampire master probably had committed more sins that he could ever live down.

The vampire looked strangely at Llewellyn, not expecting the man to change so much. "A Mongol blade? I never heard of you using a Mongol Blade…"

Llewellyn drew the blade, and held it in his right hand. He pricked his left index finger with it, and allowed a drop of blood to run down the edge of the weapon. Picking up the Japanese Katana with his left hand, Llewellyn growled at the vampire. He literally growled, his teeth bare, and his face set in a rage that was totally unnatural to what he normally was.

"Thunder, and Lighting," Crevan whispered.

"What?" Xander asked dumbly.

"A dark time, Xander. A dark time. When Llewellyn no longer had his abilities under control, and he trained one of the best, and most vicious, warriors ever."

"Who?" Willow asked, as she stared at Llewellyn with a scared look in her eyes.

"Timujin," Crevan whispered, and added, "Genghis Khan. Lew was the teacher of Genghis Khan. Lew's Mongol name was Lighting, because of his speed. The blade's named Thunder."

Bearing the two very different blades, Llewellyn launched at the vampire, who was still staring shocked at the immortal warrior. But, a vampire didn't grow to be 1300 years old without developing instincts. And right now, his instincts were on ultra-high alert. Blocking with every bit of his vampyric strength and speed, the vampire managed to bring Llewellyn's vicious double-sword attacks to a stop.

A glint in Llewellyn's eyes was everything the vampire needed to realize his opponent was no longer the composed _Dominus Necarum_, but the crazy warrior _Lightning_, who had trained Genghis Khan, and helped him establish an empire greater than any one man had conquered: the Mongol Empire. And the master had actually _been_ there, during the conquests. He had seen the carnage, the destroyed cities, and so on. He didn't care at the time, of course, but now, he sure wished he hadn't picked a fight with this crazy man who was pounding his defenses.

Defenses that had protected him for 1300 years were now being put to the test, and they were failing miserably.

"See why they call me Lighting!" Llewellyn roared in the Mongol language of Genghis Khan. The master cringed, and attempted to fly off, dropping his blade.

Llewellyn snarled, causing everyone to take a step back. Even Crevan, and Samantha made large eyes at the man they knew. Crevan had only heard what Llewellyn had told him, and Sam…she never even heard the stories.

"You won't escape!" Llewellyn yelled, his composure seeming to return as he dropped the Mongol blade form his right hand, and held it next to his body, palm upwards, his hand held in a cupping motion. "Eloc Napu eth nimlaf serif toreth Rus!" Llewellyn shouted. I call upon the flaming blazes of the South! Energy floated around his cupped hand, only to gather in the palm, and settle down as an orange-red glowing ball.

Llewellyn threw the ball at the fleeing creature, which never knew what hit it as it began snarling when the magical energies worked on it. The ball didn't kill it, just like the bullets hadn't killed the vampire master's companions. Llewellyn knew his silver bullets were more effective, since they tended to paralyze his opponents, but when in need, he could always count on some magical fireworks to help him out.

Shifting his katana to his right hand, Llewellyn ran after the flaming vampire, which was having more and more difficulty staying in the air. Flying was very strenuous, and the magic was doing its job. Llewellyn counted his blessings as the vampire kept flying over ground with little or no obstacles. As such, Llewellyn was right there when the vampire crashed.

Shaken, but not nearly as dead as Llewellyn would have wanted him to be, the master vampire got to his feet. Sure, he couldn't fly anymore. But he could still fight… if he hadn't dropped his blade while fleeing. Cursing his shortsightedness, the vampire got in a karate pose.

The vampire was drained from being hit by a fireball while flying, and Llewellyn was drained from throwing it. Magic wasn't his strongest point. Katana in hand, Llewellyn circled the vampire. As the others trickled in, one by one, they stared at the master.

"Don't you ever die? I saw him toast your ass!" Xander shouted at the vampire.

"I will feed on you for this, mortal! After I dispose of this nuisance!" the vampire shouted at Xander, indicating Llewellyn as the nuisance.

"I'm honored. I've made it to a nuisance. Well, at least this nuisance scares you enough into running." Llewellyn attacked, dodged under the vampire's defending hands, and drove his blade straight up as he landed in front of the vampire's feet in a crouched position. He could hear the grunt, and Llewellyn knew that the fight was over.

Jerking the sword out of the vampire's insides as he stood up, Llewellyn brought the blade around, and decapitated the vampire master before the undead creature had any chance to react. Llewellyn stared as the master turned to ashes, and finally collapsed after the ashes had scattered in the wind.

Llewellyn opened his eyes, feeling the splitting headache hit him with its full effects. Grunting, he looked up to stare directly into the eyes of his daughter.

"Sam…" Llewellyn whispered. "I'm sorry…"

"Dad! You destroyed THREE masters. Of course you got a little carried away, but… everyone understands. They're shocked, but Uncle Crevan calmed them down."

"They're still here?" Llewellyn asked, pushing the headache away. Unfortunately, trying was all he could, as the damn migraine refused to move.

"Yeah," Samantha replied. "Downstairs, in the living room. You weren't out that long… it's only ten thirty now."

"I should go talk to them," Llewellyn grunted, as he got out of bed. Samantha stared at him with worried eyes.

"Are you okay, Dad? You look as pale as a ghost."

Llewellyn chuckled. "You had the knack of exaggeration, Sam. It's just a headache. I should know better than the use magic in combat. I'm a warrior-druid, not a damn fighter-mage!"

"If you say so," Samantha said dubiously, walking along with her adoptive father.

"Crazy warrior-man is awake!" Xander quipped when he saw the immortal walk through the door.

"At least I know from myself that I'm crazy," Llewellyn retorted easily. As everyone chuckled, Xander grunted.

After a while, Llewellyn managed to ease the mood somewhat, as he told them about what had happened during the fight, and his relationship to the blade called Thunder. Finally, after Llewellyn was through with his explanation, Buffy asked the question he had been dreading ever since this whole master-vampire mess came up: "Will you train me?"

Llewellyn was really feeling way too tired to deal with all this. "Buffy, I told you, I already have a student!"

"Come on, Dad! Teaching just me, or teaching two of us isn't all that different," Samantha ganged up with Buffy. Feeling an ally, Buffy smiled at the ten-year-old, who smiled back.

"I have to teach her the basics, while you are already more advanced," Llewellyn said to his daughter.

"Hey! I'm the Slayer! I am SO beyond the basics!" Buffy said, feigning hurt.

"She'll pick up quickly, Dad! She's the Slayer. She's supposed to pick up fast!"

"True, but…" Llewellyn said, this whole situation not made any better with Crevan enjoying seeing his teacher squirm. Not to mention that Buffy's friends were enjoying the show as well. "What about school?" Llewellyn asked, playing his trump card. "Either Buffy has to go to a school here in Beverly Hills, which I doubt her friends will like, or we'll have to move to Sunnydale, which *I* don't like."

"Why not?" Samantha asked. "The Hellmouth sounds like a nice place to live."

"Yep. We've got it all. A school, a jail, and more cemetery space than New York City!" Xander quipped.

"And not to mention vampires and demons galore!" Willow added in.

"U-huh," Llewellyn said. "And right where are we supposed to live? Do you have any ideas how much trouble it was for me to get this house built? With the secret weapons locker, the nuclear shelter, and so on?"

"Come on, Dad… with your money, that's not a problem."

Llewellyn grunted as he reached for his head. One thing his dazed mind did realize, though: his daughter had made up her mind, and it would be damn hard to get her off the idea. Something he wasn't looking forward to in his current situation.

"Oh, okay!" he grunted, closing his eyes. "If it'll get you two off my case!" His eyes opened again, and shot a warning glance at Crevan, who couldn't help but smile broadly.

"Enjoy yourself, old-timer," Crevan said, smiling suggestively. Llewellyn shot him an angry glare.

"You're not so young either, pal."

As the banter between the two immortals went on, Buffy couldn't help but think of the future. She couldn't help but think that, in a thousand years, she would possibly be part of the group, just like Sam would be. 


End file.
